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greenlaut · 3 months

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yusuf (son of the sea) — assassin's creed oc

(this oc is a persona of myself but as the son of altaïr and malik. for fun purposes ehe.)

backstory under the cut

cw: implied child abuse, violence

yusuf heralds from akka harbour in the middle district. he had a content and fulfilling childhood with his father (a sailor), mother, and two you ger siblings. however, when he was 7 his father got caught in a brawl with drunk sailors, thus causing a conflict that killed his family. yusuf survived because he was out fishing when it occurred.

as an orphan, he was thrown into an orphanage. the orphanage couldn't afford the upkeep and soon enough it was bought by a slaver who profited off child-brides. yusuf escaped again; he'd rather die in the streets than bound to gross men.

he was severely malnourished and cold when altaïr first found him. the master assassin just finished up a kill and was making his way home. altaïr wrapped him up in a thick scarf and offered some bread. when the assassin tried to take yusuf to an orphanage, yusuf slipped away. yusuf was not a master assassin, but he was small and quick—easily weaving in and out of crowds and wagons. it took altaïr an embarassing amount of time (an hour, longer than it should've taken him to hunt down a target) to chase down the child. at the end of it, altaïr was impressed enough that he brought yusuf along.

altaïr thought of taking yusuf to masyaf, then forgone it, and instead dropped him off without much explanation in jerusalem with malik (much to the da'i's shock, confusion, and annoyance) before he continued on his mission. malik was apprehensive at first and was about to leave yusuf in one of the orphanages in jerusalem if altaïr never return to pick up the child back. but yusuf was a nice company to have around (compared to most of the air-headed novices he had to face—the bar is low) while malik worked. the child was witty, blunt, and reminded malik of young altaïr there wasn't any formalities when yusuf got taken in by malik—he just was.

during his stay with malik, yusuf preferred to be referred as a boy or child and acted much like any other boy. yusuf was born and raised in his family as a woman, and whilst he was in the streets he didn't care much about how people view him than to survive. one day malik asked him—the da'i glanced at yusuf whilst keeping his hands on the open map before him—if yusuf would rather be identified as a man or a woman. yusuf replied that he (is) very much a boy without looking up from his needlework (he was stitching his torn pants). malik nodded and that was that.

years later, when yusuf was of age; malik took it upon himself to unearth a merchant who sold medicines for men ailed with impotency. the da'i upheld his reputation as the most feared rafiq with the exchange. since then, yusuf has had no problems with getting his (gender-affirming) medicines regularly.

then al-mualim happened and altaïr rose up as a grandmaster. yusuf stayed with malik in jerusalem until he was of age to become a novice. until that time, altaïr would visit jerusalem regularly to check in on his ward and his friend—and to escape the unbearable stuffiness that is grandmaster work. altaïr taught yusuf how to hone his strength in stealth and agility. malik taught him how to read and write. during this time, they discovered yusuf was nearsighted due to him being severely malnourished in the past (and it also stunted his growth). but yusuf was able to hid it for so long since he had been using his second vision to cover up for his nearsightedness. (altaïr was rather delighted to find someone else sharing his trait. they bonded over their shared dislike of people labeled as enemies in their eagle vision).

they keep this strange bonding activity far off into yusuf's adulthood. they sit together and view into their second vision to ruminate over people. malik would scold both of them if he catches them in the act, saying that it's impolite and dishonourable. but after one attempts too many on altaïr's well-being, he understands the need. and sometimes, he'll sit with them and ask for names. altaïr has learned how to avoid dropping names to malik. yusuf hasn't—and the assassin isn't going to try and find out what malik will do (or has done) to them.

when yusuf became a novice, malik half-jokingly told yusuf to keep an eye on altaïr for him. and so he did; whilst he worked under the tutelage of the mentors, he would check in (read: harass) on altaïr in his study. while yusuf was not the brightest novice; he kept altaïr sane and feeling human enough through the trials of leadership.

yusuf eventually finishes his training as an assassin (not master assassin). altaïr oversaw his hidden blade initiation personally out of fondness. he has no intent of becoming a mentor, and so he takes his time to loiter around masyaf and jerusalem to keep an eye for both of his pseudo-fathers. taking up available missions or errands to run without caring for ranks.

he excels in stealthwork and free-running. to deal with his eyesight, yusuf tends to find viewpoints from the highest landmark first to check with his second vision before dealing with his target. contrary to his fathers, yusuf's swordmanship is minimum. he avoids conflict when he can, and prefers to escape (by running or blending in) or stealth-kill when facing enemy soldiers.

fin.

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Found another animal to annoy Desmond with: boat-billed heron

The unofficial bird of the Brotherhood is the eagle. No one has tried to refute that. Before they were called Assassins, eagles have always been their companion of some kind.

So it was not surprising that everyone and their parents were talking about how Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had gotten himself a bird companion.

… that wasn’t an eagle.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was what most Assassin aspire to be, unless the name of that Assassin was Malik Al-Sayf then Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was the Assassin he absolutely didn’t want to be.

Even if some of them are annoyed by his arrogance, they cannot deny his skills and intellect. Which only makes the fact that Altaïr’s bird companion was some strange massive bill that reminded some of them of the underside of a boat.

It was like the heavens had punished Altaïr for his arrogance. The bird was strange-looking enough that anyone who saw it would be curious, making any attempts of stealth be useless.

They don’t call it a curse in front of Altaïr’s face, of course. They weren’t suicidal.

… unless the name of the Assassin was Abbas Sofian then that fool deliberately insult both Altaïr and his bird in their faces. Other Assassins simply sighed and ignored it, having lived with the two’s animosity for so long that it had become a norm at this point.

Then they heard Abbas scream and turned back around to find the bird had started to attack the man, trying to peck his eyes out with his large bill.

Altaïr was trying to stop the bird, “You’ll hurt yourself, Desmond! Stop!”

… worried more about the bird than the brother it was attacking.

Of course.

Altaïr had always been a strange boy.

This entire debacle ended with Al Mualim punishing both Assassins, Abbas for his careless words and Altaïr for being unable to control his bird.

1 week in the dungeons.

1 week of the bird terrorizing Al Mualim as if to protest for its owner’s cruel fate.

Nothing serious.

He perched on the window behind Al Mualim with eyes glaring daggers hard enough that the other Assassins were worried that it would actually try to attack Al Mualim.

Missing documents later to be found in other places that would make Al Mualim’s back ache.

Tipping the black ink bottle while it was open, purposely missing any of the paper on the table but wasting the ink and dirtying the table.

Sitting on Al Mualim’s head until Al Mualim shoo him away, only to return after Al Mualim had started to relax once more.

The bird was a terror to everyone but Altaïr.

… and Kadar, apparently. But considering how ‘close’ Kadar was to Altaïr, it wasn’t any surprising.

By the end of Altaïr’s punishment in the dungeon, everyone was relieved…

… including Al Mualim.

#desmond’s pettiness is mild because he’s not yet sure if this al mualim is already a templar #he’s giving him the benefit of the doubt #desmond was given a big bill and my god he was going to use it #after this incident #every time abbas and altair’s path intersect #desmond would try to peck his eyes out #even when they ignore each other #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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isa-belle1367 · 2 months

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So this is gonna be my AU where all of desmonds ancestors follow desmond around in spirit form (also including other assassins who aren't his ancestors), but this little story is taking place during ac3 when William hit desmond so...ya (this is probably gonna be really bad lmao) also plz do not ship desmond with anyone most of them are related, that's weird

Btw Kass isn't here bc she is still alive, so alexios is here instead

I woke up from the animus, still shocked about what I had heard. Haythem was a Templar.

I always got weird vibes from haythem, but I never thought he would be a Templar.

Over to my left, Altair was sitting on the floor next to Malik, I knew Rebecca and Shaun couldn't see them, not unless they allowed themselves to be seen. Which worked in my favor, I wouldn't even know where to begin to explain this

I wasn't even fully sure what they were or why they were here. At first, I thought it had something to do with them being my ancestors, but with Malik here, I knew that couldn't be the case. Bayek and Aya had also confirmed this.

Altair glanced at me and smiled before going back to his conversation with Malik, which was fine by me because I had more pressing matters to worry about.

"You all saw that, right?" I asked while sitting up.

"Wow," Rebecca looked shocked

"Wow indeed," shaun said, nodding

I glanced to the side, Connor was sitting with his head down. Connor had just started showing up recently, but I already liked him, so it hurt me to see him sad, especially over his father being a Templar.

"The key must be the amulet haythem took from London." I said

Bayek came up behind me. "Your father is behind you."

I nodded, I knew most of my ancestors didn't really like my dad, so they always took it upon themselves to warn me when he was near.

I heard my dad speak up. "We might know what it looks like, but we are no closer to finding it. Desmond, you need to keep going."

I stood, turning to my dad. Next to him, Altair and Malik were now up, glaring daggers at him. Well, everyone was except for Rebecca and Shaun, but Altair and Malik looked ready to gut him.

I could feel their rage, everyone's rage. I guess it comes with having ghosts following you around. You get to feel their emotions.

"Hey, he's your ancestor too. Why don't you hop in the animus?" Normally, I wouldn't have said anything, but it was really hard not too when I felt the anger of 9 people flowing through me.

"Really? That's your response? It's like dealing with a 6-year-old." He stated rolling his eyes

If I thought Altair looked angry before now, he looked furious, but Altair wasn't who I was focused on. It was Connor. Out of everyone, his rage was the strongest. I glanced over and saw Edward next to Connor. At least Edward is there to keep him somewhat calm.

"What is wrong with you, desmond?" William asked, walking around the animus to get closer to me.

I walked over to him, I could feel my rage boiling over

"You wanna know what's wrong? I'm sick of being treated like I'm not even here! Desmond, do this. Desmond do that. Desmond, you better figure things out, or the sun will kill us all.

And I know I was really nice to you, but I'm actually just another Templar plot twist. And yes, I would very much like for you to be controlled by a magic space wizard so that you can murder me. So there's your answer. I'm sick of being your pawn. I thought you might be different, but it turns out you're no better then the fucking Templars."

I had no clue why I said all of that. All of my rage that I had felt since I had been taken by abstergo had just seemed to boil over.

But before I could even register what I had just said, pain shot through my face. I stumbled back, shocked, and then I was blinded by a bright flash.

I looked over to see my dad flying to a wall, with Altair and ezio already running towards him with murder in their eyes.

I cursed, sprinting after them

"Altair, Ezio! Stop!" I called out

Luckily, my dad wasn't too far, and I was able to get to him quickly, but the bad news was that Altair and ezio were quicker and already had their weapons drawn. Along with bayek, Jacob, and evie.

"Altair, don't hurt him, you too, Ezio. Bayek, if you shoot my dad, I'm confiscating your bow and Jacob if you throw that bomb. I swear." I called out.

Altair and ezio frowned at me, clearly disappointed, bayek lowered his bow, and Jacob whispered something to evie.

"Jacob, if you're planning something, stop it."

I sighed, I loved these guys, but they can really be a handful sometimes.

"What they hell was that?" My dad said.

Oh, right, I forgot that to him. He just randomly got blasted across the room, then saw me yelling at seemingly nothing.

I was about to say something, but Alexios was standing behind my dad holding a sword, looking like he was about to spear my dad

I groaned and held my hand out. Alexios rolled his eyes before handing me the sword. It materialized in my hand, I put the sword against the wall before turning back to my dad, who now looked even more frightened

I rubbed my eyes. How the hell was I going to explain this.

Before I could figure out what I was going to say, Malik appeared next to me, but now he didn't appear as transparent. He was still transparent, but you could only tell if you looked long enough. He had made himself visible.

He grabbed my face, examining it. "Your nose is bleeding, though it doesn't appear to be broken."

I glanced at my dad, the poor man looked horrified.

I turned to him, pulling away from Malik. I offered a hand to him.

"Why don't you go have Shaun and Rebecca make sure you're not hurt, I'll explain everything in a second."

Malik grabbed my arm, raising an eyebrow. He gave me a look that said, "Are you sure about this."

I nodded, and he let go of my arm. "You're too kind for your own good." He stated in Arabic

After helping my dad up and making sure he could still walk, I turned to Altair and ezio.

"Really? he punched me, and you threw him into a stone wall!" I said exasperated.

Malik handed me a tissue, "Your nose is still bleeding."

"Not the point." I said while I dabbed at my nose with the tissue

I noticed Shaun, Rebecca, and William starting at me. "You know there is no point in keeping yourselves hidden now." I announced to my ancestors.

Jacob grinned, making himself visible along with evie. Bayek and Aya followed, then connor and Edward, and soon everyone was visible.

I glanced back over at shaun and Rebecca, and now they looked scared but also extremely confused. I sighed, I should probably explain everything to them before scolding Altair for throwing my dad.

I began to walk over to them, but bayek appeared next beside me, grabbing my shoulder

"Are you sure you don't want us to....handle your father." Bayek asked in Egyptian.

"No, you are not going to harm my dad mentally, emotionally, or physically." I responded in Egyptian. I didn't think my dad needed to hear that a bunch of skilled assassins wanted him dead.

I walked over to William and the others, ezio and Connor, following closely. I smiled. ezio had been kinda protective over me since he first came here, and while I hadn't gone through connors memories yet, I had a pretty good idea why he was weary of my dad.

"So I guess I should explain."

sorry if this is bad. This is very rushed, but I have had this idea in my head for about a week

Btw in case I didn't name everyone, the assassins following desmond are Altair, Malik, ezio, Aya, bayek, evie, Jacob, Connor, and Edward, (haythem shows up sometimes with shay)

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #altair #altair ibn la'ahad #connor kenway #william milles #jacob frye #evie frye #frye twins #edward kenway #bayek of siwa #aya of siwa #malik al sayf #ezio auditore #writing #short story #one shot #alexios

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lunavadash-creates · 11 months

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Next idea reffering to the latest message. The reader gives them their necklace as a lucky charm and some kind of promise to come back to them right before they go on a mission/battle?

You know my favorite characters, but feel free to write for characters you like to write about.

🔪

After weeks/months/years of silence, I am back.

Thank you Knifey for believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself! I hope you will enjoy it!

Altaїr

„Why are you giving me this?” he was so surprised when you suddenly gave him a turquoise

The stone was in the shade of summer sky, covered with a thin web of darker veins, it was held in place by a black, leather strap

“It should give you protection, especially that I won’t be there with you”

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the one to believe in the magical power of colourful stones, he was just happy to have a gift from you

He immediately put it around his neck, secretly happy that he will be able to have a piece of you wherever he goes

“Thank you” he would say while hugging you and leaving a gentle kiss on your temple

“Promise me you will be careful and that you will come back to me”

“I shall”

After that, he thought about what to give you in return

During his missions, he was learning about different stones and when he found out that turquoise was really supposed to give peace and protection, he felt like his heart skipped a beat

It took a long time but finally, he managed to find the perfect stone – one that you then wore to the end of the time

Shay

The Morrigan was docked in the port for a week now and you were bored

As not-yet-the-official-templar you weren’t allowed to attend the meetings and all the weird shenanigans Shay had to take part in

It’s not like you cared a lot about politics but it was boring all alone

Like sure shopping and eating nice food was great after weeks at the sea but you missed your love

That day you were on the shore, enjoying the sun and the warm weather, baling barefoot on the wet sand, allowing the ocean to wash around your feet

At one point you found a clam

It had a pearl inside

And only by a total accident you also knew that Shay will have a birthday soon

It took a bit to find the right blacksmith but he agreed, after getting some additional coins, to put priority on your order

You made a sketch of what you wanted – a silver four-leaf clover with this small pearl inside

“It’s for good luck,” you said while giving him the present

The grin on his face widened

“I make my own luck”

And then he spent half of the night thanking you for a beautiful gift

Arno

He doesn’t really like getting gifts

Unless a gift is a cup of coffee

Honestly giving him a gift is such a pain as he has almost everything he wants

Like seriously he grew up rich and as a Café Theatre owner he doesn’t really complain about the lack of money to spend

One day he comes back home and tells you he has a mission in Germany so he will be away for a few weeks

He also asked you to take care of the Café in his absence as he trusts you the most

It broke your heart that he will be away for so long so you desperately thought about something to make him remember his home and you

At one point you found a weird man from a land far far away who was selling some goods

Among them, there was a little Rhodochrosite. A pink crystal in a shape of an obelisk hanging on a silver threat

This man piqued your curiosity so you listen to the story of the spiritual meaning of the stone

You came back home with this necklace just to find Arno packing his clothes

You hugged him from behind, not really wanting to let him go so far away without you

“I have something for you”

“I hope it’s a cup of coffee”

“I don’t want you to go. But also, I cannot stop you so… please, have it with you. It’s a Rhodochrosite and it means compassion and love. They say it clears away emotional wounds and scars from the past. With it… you will come back to me eventually, right?”

There was a moment of silence and you thought Arno wasn’t really happy

It was until he hugged you so tightly, he almost took your breath away

“It is so much better than coffee. I swear I will come back to your Cherie”

He kept his promise

Edward

The crew was preparing your ship to set sails

Right next to your there was Jackdaw, also getting ready to head toward the endless blue

While sitting on the railing you watched the blond man, your friend and lover, ready to leave for a mission that will take him god-knows-where

You were holding a coin in your hand frantically flipping it through your fingers

“Hey, Kenway!” you shouted, to catch his attention. Despite the sound of waves crashing against the shore, he heard you and immediately turned around, just in time to catch the object that flew his way

It was a golden coin with jackdaw on it and a little hole at the top, through which run a leather strap

He raised his head only to see you holding the twin coin, already on your neck

“This is a promise, Kenway. Better come back and find me after the job is done” you threaten, but actually, you were afraid that the endless ocean will be too much of a gap between you and the bond you shared would be severed

Edward put the necklace with a coin on and then sent you one of his smirks

“I will find you even at the edge of the world, Lass! And you better have the second coin prepared for me!”

#assassin's creed #arno dorian #altair ibn la ahad #edward kenway #shay cormac #shay patrick cormac #assassins creed unity #assassins creed black flag #assassins creed 1 #ac1 #ac black flag #ac unity #assassins creed rogue #ac rogue #luna writes

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just-a-silly-little-whumper · 7 months

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Violation

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

For BTHB: Rape/Noncon.

Lord Denholm wants many things from Altair that Altair doesn't intend to give. Lord Denholm takes what he wants anyway.

Contains: Explicit noncon, vampire whumper/bloodbag whumpee, intimate whump, captivity, restraint, wing whump, begging, dissociation

~~~

Altair was so cold.

Shadows coiled around him, insubstantial yet still holding him in place. They seemed to sap the warmth from his very bones, leaving him shivering as he knelt on the floor of Elze’ith’s room. And he could swear he felt them moving, sliding along his skin and between the feathers of his new wings, making him more dizzy and breathless and nauseous by the moment.

But the restricting shadows mattered less than the fact that Elze’ith was gone. Lord Denholm had ripped them apart and dragged Elze’ith away, and though Altair had fought, Lord Denholm’s shadows easily pinned him down. Elze’ith’s screams still rang in Altair’s ears. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. It was certainly long enough for Altair to feel Elze’ith’s absence, for worry and dread to weigh heavy in his mind. Their embrace when Altair’s wings had come out had been the first moment of peace Altair had felt in such a long time. Now it was gone, and so was Elze’ith, and Altair was alone again. And given Lord Denholm’s fury when he had taken Elze’ith away, Elze’ith would be paying the price for that fleeting serenity.

And he could feel… something. The faint presence in his mind swelled with something that felt like fear, before receding to the point that he could barely feel it. He didn’t know what that meant. Just that it couldn’t be good.

The door finally opened. Lord Denholm strode in, imperious as ever. The look on his face was unreadable, but his aura had calmed ever so slightly. There was still rage and power swirling in it, but not quite as much as when he had torn Elze’ith away. He came to stare down at Altair, not saying anything for a moment. Altair strained against the shadows holding him in place, but they held fast.

“What did you do to Elze’ith?”

“I needed to separate you two. He needs time alone to think, and you, little ruin, need some individual attention.” Lord Denholm’s voice was a low purr as he regarded Altair. “After all, despite your disobedience, you have made quite the breakthrough today.”

Before Altair had an opportunity to respond, the shadows engulfing him drew back, taking him with them. He cried out as he was pulled off the floor and deposited on his back on Elze’ith’s bed, wings splayed beneath him. His arms were pulled above his head and his legs were wrenched apart, making him wince at the force. Then the mass of shadows melted away, leaving only the tendrils holding his arms and legs in place.

His heartbeat picked up in his chest. He could see where this was going. He had feared this ever since Lord Denholm had captured him. Now it seemed Lord Denholm finally intended to fulfill one of his long-standing threats, and Altair wasn’t ready. Digging deep, he reached for his magic once again. Maybe now that something had changed within him, now that he had awoken to the divine power in his blood, his magic would finally answer him. But just the same as every time before, the cuffs around his wrists kept him from summoning flames to his fingertips or causing lightning to crackle in the air.

All Altair could do was struggle futilely against the shadows holding him down and watch as Lord Denholm moved about the room. Despite feeling like smoke against his skin, the shadows were utterly unyielding, barely offering any slack as Altair pulled on them. Lord Denholm seemed to pay his efforts little mind as he pulled a few things from the wardrobe. When he approached Altair, he carried a handful of the same silk strips that had been used to tie Altair to the canopy earlier that evening, as well as a small bottle that had Altair’s blood running cold.

“Bastard,” Altair snarled. “I’m going to kill you for this.”

“Hush,” Lord Denholm said softly. He placed the bottle on the table before taking one of the silks and wrapping it around Altair’s wrist. The shadow holding it retreated as Lord Denholm did so.

Altair furrowed his brow. Why was he restraining Altair using mundane means, when he clearly could do so magically? Was he worried about running out of magic?

Not that it mattered, when his arm was being fastened to the bedpost. Though he strained, he still couldn’t get himself free. Lord Denholm’s hands were almost gentle as he took Altair’s other wrist to repeat the process. Every brush of Lord Denholm’s frigid hands against his skin made him shiver in disgust.

“Don’t touch me!” It wouldn’t do much good. He knew that. But he couldn’t just do nothing while this was happening. Even if his protests were useless, they were all he had.

But Lord Denholm seemed to take that as an invitation. He ran a hand down Altair’s bare chest, smiling when Altair tried and failed to shrink away. “You need to understand, my little ruin. You are mine. Mine to touch, mine to use, mine to mold.”

Altair bit his lip as Lord Denholm’s hand trailed lower, tracing the outline of the scar on Altair’s hip before moving to the waistband of his pants. He lingered for a moment, almost tauntingly, before slipping his fingers around the fabric and slowly pulling down. Every inch seemed to take an eternity, and Altair grit his teeth as goosebumps broke out across his newly-exposed flesh.

“Beautiful,” Lord Denholm purred, setting Altair’s pants aside and running a finger down his leg. Altair tried desperately to kick out at him, but the shadows’ hold remained strong. The resistance merely earned a chuckle from Lord Denholm as he took more silks, securing them first to Altair’s ankles and then to the bedposts, leaving his legs spread open.

Altair’s breath was starting to come in shorter, harsher bursts. His mind raced, his eyes darting about the room, searching for a way out. But there was no way out. He was helpless. Lord Denholm was going to rape him, and there was nothing he could do.

“Easy, little ruin.” Lord Denholm shifted forward on the bed until he was looming over Altair, a shadow blotting out the room’s low light. Altair could see the way Lord Denholm’s pants had grown tight, and the sight made him taste bile. “Breathe. I can’t have you passing out yet.”

A part of Altair almost wanted to hyperventilate until he lost consciousness. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel what was coming. But he didn’t want to give Lord Denholm the satisfaction of seeing him so afraid. Instead, he just swallowed. “You-”

Before Altair could say anything else, Lord Denholm placed a hand on the top of Altair’s wing. The cold touch shocked Altair to his core; part of him wanted to melt into the gentle hand, while part of him could feel the ill-intent and wanted to get away. It was far more direct and intense than anything he had ever felt, and he gasped as the combination of sensation and emotion immediately threatened to overwhelm him. Lord Denholm only smiled and deliberately trailed his hand down the length of Altair’s wing. The motion drew a whine from Altair’s throat as the strange, conflicting feelings managed to grow even stronger.

“Exquisite. I knew you would be. You just needed the right push,” Lord Denholm mused. “How many people have tried and failed to unlock your true potential, my little ruin?”

Altair, shivering on the bed, didn’t intend to respond. But the words came tumbling out anyway. “I always thought they were wrong. All my life my family told me I was special, told me I had a unique spark of divinity. But their years of training amounted to nothing. Nothing changed after I left, though people kept chasing me, acting like they knew something I didn’t. I-”

He cut himself off with a long, shuddering inhale. Why had he said that? It wasn’t as if he wanted to talk about any of this, let alone with Lord Denholm. But it was as if he hadn’t had a choice. Lord Denholm asked, and he answered.

And in response Lord Denholm’s smile grew. He worked his fingers in between Altair’s feathers to more directly touch the sensitive skin underneath. For a moment Altair’s thoughts stalled, his breath catching in his throat.

“There was a time where you wouldn’t have even considered answering me. Have you finally realized your place, then?”

“I don’t want to answer you!” Once again it felt as though the words were being pulled from his throat. “I don’t know how you’re making me, but-” Realization rippled through him. “It’s my wings, isn’t it. Something about them is making me talk. It’s the only thing that’s changed. I- stop touching them!” He tried to twist away, but his bonds held him fast, leaving him with nowhere to go. There was just the bed beneath him, and Lord Denholm above him, with his cold, insistent hands and his widening grin.

“I already told you. You are mine. I will touch you however I please. All the better that it makes you so much more transparent. I rather like this side of you; I cannot wait to see more of it.” The ostensive gentleness of Lord Denholm’s touch abruptly vanished as he dug his nails into Altair’s wing and scraped slowly along towards the tip. The sudden pain was far more intense than it should have been, and Altair found himself arching his back with a strangled groan, eyes clenched shut as the sensation washed over him.

Then, finally, Lord Denholm drew his hand away. The sudden loss of contact left Altair gasping. He was left with an ache that took several long moments to begin to fade. He didn’t want Lord Denholm’s hand back, but part of him did. The feeling was bewildering in how utterly unfamiliar it was. It was enough to make him want to crawl out of his own skin, even if Lord Denholm wasn’t intending on assaulting him.

He heard shifting above him. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he opened his eyes. Lord Denholm had taken off his pants and set them, neatly folded, to the side. Now he loomed over Altair once again, his cock erect and ready.

Ice flooded Altair’s veins. “No,” he breathed, not even directed at Lord Denholm, just in disbelief and horror. “No, you can’t—”

“You beg so prettily, little ruin,” Lord Denholm murmured. “If only anyone would listen.”

Cold, slick fingers slipped between Altair’s legs, pressing lightly along his folds. Altair froze, his breath coming to a complete standstill, as though the lack of movement might help him hide from what was to come. Lord Denholm might have said something, but Altair couldn’t hear it over the pounding of his heart roaring in his ears. It seemed Lord Denholm wasn’t looking for a response, though, as after a moment of exploration, one finger slipped inside.

A high-pitched, terrified whimper resonated in Altair’s throat. He heard a sound that might have been Lord Denholm humming, or maybe laughing, as he slowly pushed his finger in, all the way up to the knuckle. It was too much, and his finger was so cold, and it didn’t necessarily hurt but it sure as hell didn’t feel good. Time seemed to stretch and warp as Lord Denholm moved his finger within Altair as though he were mapping out the space inside. The entire time, Altair stayed frozen, mind blank with panic.

And then Lord Denholm withdrew, just as agonizingly slowly as he had pushed his finger in. Altair let out a shuddery breath as soon as the intrusion was gone, his lungs seeming to work again as he gasped for air. The reprieve was brief, however, as Altair felt something much larger pressing against him.

Tears sprung to his eyes. If anything broke him, it would be this.

Lord Denholm smiled down at him. “Fret not, little ruin. The first time is always the hardest.”

And then Lord Denholm sank his cock into Altair.

Altair opened his mouth in a soft, wordless cry. Lord Denholm went slowly, taking his time, as though he were giving Altair a chance to adjust, as though he wanted to enjoy it. But there was no adjusting to being violated so utterly. Now it did hurt, sparks of sharp pain shooting through him, because what little preparation Lord Denholm had given him hadn’t been nearly enough. Altair instinctively clenched, trying to keep Lord Denholm out, but that only made Lord Denholm groan in pleasure as he continued to press in, inch by tortuous inch until he fully bottomed out.

“There,” Lord Denholm purred. “You feel so good, my ruinous little angel, stretched around my cock like this. Simply perfect.”

He began to lazily roll his hips. The movements were small, but they still sent jolts of sensation through Altair’s core. It might have been gentle in any other scenario, but the mockery of intimacy only made it all the more cruel.

“No,” Altair gasped. “No, stop, please-”

Lord Denholm brought up his hand, finger still covered in Altair’s fluid, up to stroke Altair’s wing once again. A full-body shudder of disgust rippled through Altair. “Your begging only makes you more enticing, my little ruin. By all means, please continue.”

“Please. Please, I can’t do this, just stop, you can hurt me as much as you want, just don’t do this.” The words tumbled freely from his mouth without his conscious permission. Honestly, he would have begged completely willingly if he thought it might have any chance of stopping this. But he knew all he was doing was giving Lord Denholm even more perverse satisfaction.

“Yes, that’s it, just like that,” Lord Denholm purred. He began to speed up his pace, rocking his hips into Altair more earnestly. As he did he threaded his fingers in between Altair’s feathers and tightened his grip, as if seeking purchase. And his smile, that dreadfully smug smile, never left as he stared down at Altair to take in his every reaction.

It was too much. The hand in his wing was a perpetual starburst of intense sensation and emotional turmoil, enough to leave him speechless and desperate for relief. Each movement of Lord Denholm within him was a new flare of pleasure-pain-disgust, bright and repulsive and inescapable. Combined it was utterly overwhelming, invasive in a way he never would have thought possible, like his entire being was being turned inside out just for Lord Denholm’s pleasure. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. He wanted to rip Lord Denholm apart with his bare hands and burn his remains to cinders. He wanted to keep begging and begging until it finally stopped. But he couldn’t do any of that, could barely breathe anymore as Lord Denholm just kept going.

Time smeared and blurred and bent. Altair was trapped in that ceaseless moment, as his feathers crumpled under Lord Denholm’s fingers, as Lord Denholm’s smile taunted him, as he was forced to stretch to take every thrust of Lord Denholm’s cock. At some point, he thought he might have started crying, but he honestly wasn’t sure. The wetness on his face might have just been from Lord Denholm leaning down to kiss his cheeks. All he knew was that this was the worst torture he had ever been forced to endure, this purposeful violation of Altair’s body and soul.

“You are divine like this, little ruin,” Lord Denholm said, his face suddenly next to Altair’s ear. The movement of his hips had sped up again, to the point where it was almost frantic. Altair found himself trying and failing to bite back whimpers. “So open and yielding and submissive for me. Just as you should be. Now, let me see how you come undone.”

A few more thrusts and Altair shuddered as he felt Lord Denholm climax, liquid surging to fill him in a way that had him whining in distress. Lord Denholm groaned, gently grinding down into Altair as though he were trying to wring as much pleasure from the orgasm as possible. The desperate hope that this might finally be over had barely entered Altair’s head when Lord Denholm’s fingers came down to press against Altair’s clit. The touch was the last thing he wanted, and yet it built on top of the pressure that Lord Denholm had already been forcibly building inside of Altair’s core. He whimpered in protest, but Lord Denholm was insistent in his ministrations. It didn’t take long before orgasm washed over Altair too, unwanted and revolting and yet somehow still a relief.

Suddenly there were teeth in his neck, the pain sharp and bright. Altair gasped as Lord Denholm sank in his fangs and started to drink. Being fed from was never pleasant, but somehow this was worse, with all of the conflicting sensations and emotions still roiling within him. Lord Denholm’s hand was still in his wing. His cock was still in Altair’s pussy. Altair didn’t even have the strength to try to pull away or protest or react at all as he was slowly drained of blood, on top of everything else he had just lost.

He wasn’t sure how long Lord Denholm drank. It felt longer than usual; Altair felt faint when he finally pulled away, although there were many things that might have caused that. Lord Denholm almost looked drunk when he looked down at Altair, his pupils dilated, his mouth stained red.

“Magnificent,” he said, licking his lips. A weak shiver went through Altair at the sight. “I knew that this would be just what you needed, my little ruin.”

All Altair could do was shake his head. He hated this— this was wrong— but he just didn’t have the strength to reply. He was exhausted, wrung out, physically and emotionally.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Lord Denholm said. The hand in his wing released its grip and began smoothing over his feathers in almost a soothing motion. Lord Denholm’s other hand rose to cup his cheek. “You’ll get used to it in time. This is where you belong, after all.”

Altair couldn’t hold back the sob that burst out of him. He was strong, but he didn’t think he was strong enough to handle this. Not again. He just wanted to be with Elze’ith. He just wanted to be safe, to be free.

He was starting to think he could never have that.

Finally, with a luxurious groan, Lord Denholm pulled out of Altair. Another sob wracked Altair’s body as he felt the mix of their fluids gush out of him onto the sheets beneath him. It only compounded the bone-deep feeling of disgust that had long-since settled over him.

Lord Denholm gave one last pat to his wing before reaching for his pants, making him flinch. “I should return you to your cell,” he mused as he began to dress himself again. “You still have a lot to answer for, after all. But you have made progress, and you performed well for me. I think you’ve earned some rest here.”

Altair’s first instinct was that he didn’t want any reward that would come after something like that. A numbness had settled in next to the maelstrom of other emotions raging within him, but he still felt that loud and clear. And yet… this was his partner’s room. He turned his head weakly to the side to look at Lord Denholm as he asked, “Elze’ith…?”

Lord Denholm merely shook his head. “My light is being taken care of. Just as you are being taken care of, little ruin. If you behave well enough, I might let you see each other again. But not before.”

The flicker of hope Altair had managed to find sputtered and died. He would be sleeping in Elze’ith’s bed, but Elze’ith wouldn’t be coming. He would be all alone. All alone in the aftermath of his lowest moment.

“I hate you,” Altair muttered softly. He had to, because otherwise the despair would utterly overwhelm him.

“I know,” Lord Denholm said. His pants were back on, and he came to sit on the bed near Altair’s head. Fingers began carding through his feathers once again, and though Altair whined and pulled weakly on his bonds, there was still no escaping Lord Denholm’s touch. “I assure you, one day that’ll change.”

And that, perhaps, scared Altair more than anything.

#flicker in the dark #silly writes #whump #whump writing #altair buchannan oc #lord soren denholm oc #bad things happen bingo #bthb #nsfwhump #captivity #restraint #wing whump #begging #dissociation (whump)#vampires

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messenger-of-stupidity · 5 months

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Suddenly, Bunny wasn't so fond of the smell of berry fusion. Only an hour ago they had been. But just as always, the cause of their constant changing preferences was Dion. To be fair, he looked regretful as their couch was filled with the scent of their air freshener spray.

Kane stood off to the side, his nose wrinkled as if the smell was personally offensive. Bunny didn't blame him. They glanced at Dion again, who was offering a very sheepish smile. They frowned at him.

"Is it too much to ask to come back from work and not have a disaster?" They asked flatly. Dion tried to snicker, hoping it would coax a smile onto their face. In his impending failure, he quickly stopped.

"I mean... I guess just... Don't leave me alone? Then you won't have to worry about disasters!" His reasoning was very flawed.

"You weren't alone. Kane was here too!" They insisted. Dion glanced at the other flame demon before looking back at them.

"He doesn't count. Besides, I was doing us a favor. Now the couch doesn't smell like smoke." He said proudly. Bunny pulled out their phone. "What are you doing?"

"Buying a new couch."

#once again im transcribing a snippet from my notebook #i really should be paying attention to this lecture #but dion waits for no one #the dion thoughts are too loud #must write them down #even if they dont make sense #reverie audios #reverieaudios #dion #kane #bunny #(hi altair how are u?)

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ryandoesfanart · 1 year

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well… jup nothing else to say-

enjoy more embarrassed Malik <3

same here altair

#malik and altair #assassin's creed fanart #assassin's creed #gay assassins ✨#altair #malik al sayf #altmal #assassin's creed funny #altair ibn la'ahad #altair x malik #altaïr ibn la'ahad #yeah #i really don't know what to write here #love shy malik #love every Malik

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tamiisnthere · 2 months

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Another random Altami little artwork while I'm doing family trees :P

(↓ Credits under Keep reading)

Programs: XNALara & Fire Alpaca

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altairtalisman · 12 days

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Hadir's Journal

#Hallowed Hotel #yes the font is meant to resemble handwriting #tw blood #tw death mention #Altair writes

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demigoddessqueens · 4 months

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Imagine Altaïr, Malik, Ezio, Haytham, Shay, Connor, and Arno trying to deal with an S/O who has befriended the local crow population.

It's cute when the crows keep bringing you small trinkets, keep using you as a perch, or follow you around all the time.

What's not quite as cute is when one day you get captured and the damn crows keep breaking into the residence and SCREAMING at your poor boyfriend. He'd be finding you right away the instant he knows something's wrong and you're hurt, and the corvids are definitely more than smart enough to help.

Oh, and when you're found? Injured? Not only are you staying right with them at all times but you're being watched by five or six sets of beady eyes all the time.

Awww! This was so cute and then got angsty then cute again!

HERE ON MASTERLIST 9

altair

It’s 50/50 with him, either he’s intrigued by your bird companions or annoyed they impose on moments with you

if you were ever taken from him or missing, Altair tries not to panic but feels some relief that he can track you down when the crows lead him to you

Now he appreciates their loyalty to you and how they’ve come to accept him as well. After all, he’s glad there are those who look after you when he’s not there

malik

Thought it was a bit odd at first, but it wasn’t a bother to anyone, and at least when you visited there was additional company with the birds. As long as they didn’t make a mess of things.

if anything bad happened to you or you were taken, he’s grateful for their lingering presence to signal where you are

After an incident like that, Malik now has the habit of tying notes to their legs, saying something like “whatever impulse you have that leads to trouble, think twice about that.”

ezio

Equally annoyed but intrigued about the corvids and tries to bribe them to bring him trinkets too

in the case of you being taken or missing, every eye on the ground and in the sky is able to find you safely.

Also likes to tie notes to said crows’ legs to pass along to you. Something funny, cute like “I see you.”

haytham

Is not amused at all. He thinks they’re annoying 😝

but if you were ever kidnapped or separated from him, he’s grateful that the unlikeliest allies help find you

There was a rare moment you saw him attempt to bond with them, one successfully perching on his finger

shay

He didn’t think much of your pet birds before but they were a welcomed presence on the ship during longer voyagers

the one time you were not by his side, his fiery temper almost got the best of him before your own trackers lead him down every path to find you

From there on out, he greets them like he does any other crew member. Giving them treats sometimes

Ratonhnhake:ton

He adores your birds and thinks it’s sweet they look out

however, pity the souls who try to take you away because there’s no corner they can hide in

Of course your pet crows are just naturally drawn to his calmness, always perched on his shoulders

arno

He thought it was oddly endearing that you’ve bonded with these birds, although they happen to be a bit of a nuisance

Now if you were to ever be taken from him, it’s all hands on deck

Given the amount of loss and heartbreak he’s had in life, it’s no surprise that Arno always wants you close to him and appreciates the corvids for keeping tabs on you

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auroramoon-draws16 · 10 months

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Everyone stop what they’re doing!!!

The Crossover Bar is a speakeasy.

That’s all I have to say, have a good day/night/whatever.

#desmond miles #assassin's creed #connor kenway #ezio auditore #altair ibn la'ahad #the crossover bar #speakeasy #fuck yeah #i’m a damn genius #fanfic #someone write a fic #pleeeeaaasssse #fandoms #y’all got me fucked up #if you think i wouldn’t think of more shit for my boy des

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Just got thrown for a nostalgia loop and had an idea: AC x Lunar Chronicles. I don’t even know where my brain is going with this but it would be so cool.

In my brain, the obvious thing would be that the Templars are Lunars since the whole mind control deelio fits their vibe but what if Desmond was like half Lunar. And/Or what if Desmond was a cyborg? And the ancestors are actual memories uploaded into robots?

Or what if Desmond just gets transported into the Lunar Chronicles universe and, because of Isu DNA, he’s immune to Lunar Glamour without being a Shell.

Or or, he gets transported there as a Lunar child but with all the memories of original Desmond and has to figure out what the fuck is Glamour and how to use it.

My initial idea would be the Lunars are an evolution of the Isus who left Earth before the Solar Flare (or didn’t go to Earth in the first place) but turning them into the Templar equivalent in this setup would be a nice change (since I did turn the people of the Moon in the Sailor Moon AU into Isus already XD).

So for this one, the Templars had long ‘converted’ the Lunars into their ideology but it becomes wrapped by the feeling of superiority the Lunars easily find thanks to their capabilities for mind control. The idea of ‘Total Control will Bring Absolute Peace’ that the Templars have been trying to push forward will be lost in the process thanks to the selfishness being brought out by the total power the Lunars have on people.

In this situation, Winter isn’t the epitome of what the Templar wanted because she refused to use her ‘gift’ but she would mistake the Templar’s cause to something like “Order is necessary to bring peace”.

Of course, we’ll set Desmond up in this world as a scifi fairy tale character. My initial idea was to turn her to the transmigrated equivalent of Wizard of Oz where he awakens as the only child of a Lunar family that isn’t really high up there in the hierarchy to be considered a ‘danger’ to the politics of Lunars but high enough that he would be raised with a semi-silver spoon.

Of course, we picked Wizard of Oz (and ignore the fact that it’s technically not one of the classic fairy tales) because this gives us the chance to give Desmond his ancestors:

The Scarecrow

The Tinman

The Lion

The Lion is Ratonhnhaké:ton, a human captured to become a slave of Desmond’s family. Of course, Desmond says no to this and they only pretend to be master and slave while trying to find Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe who had gone into hiding after their settlement had been attacked. Ratonhnhaké:ton wants to find his people who were also captured like him and Desmond usually helps him either by buying them when security is too tight or by finding ways to help Ratonhnhaké:ton break them out as quietly as possible.

The Tinman is Ezio who is an android that was gifted to Desmond when he was a baby, to be both his companion and his guard. He’s pretty much Desmond’s butler and minder and gets roped into Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton’s plans because he has to make sure Desmond is safe and won’t get into trouble. He acts more like an older brother to Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton most of the time but he is also bound to report everything Desmond does to his parents thanks to a chip that has been installed into him.

The Scarecrow is Altaïr and we have two option: Earthean or Lunar. Regardless of which one he is, his main problem is that he wants to receive the recognition he deserves for his works in a scholarly field (Quantum physics? Idk, something connected to how Desmond got transmigrated to this world). His work has been taken by an older more influential Lunar either because (if he’s an Earthean) he’s an Earthean and his peers think he’s lower than them or (if he’s a Lunar) he’s from a fallen Lunar family who perhaps helped slaves run away and has been stripped of their ranks. Regardless, Desmond becomes more or less his financial backer because Desmond believes that Altaïr might be able to figure out how to get Desmond back to his world (or, at the very least, let him get into contact with them).

Now, here’s the fun part. Does Desmond remember them as his ancestors?

It would be fun if he does and would give Desmond a reason to trust them as soon as he meets them.

An alternative would be that Desmond’s memories of them (aka: his time in the Animus) is blank. Only his memories as Desmond Miles are vivid. He knows he used the Animus to get stronger but he doesn’t remember what he saw in the Animus.

Another alternative is that he starts to remember them only after meeting them or after his relationship with them is at the point where they trust each other.

Regardless of which it is, the main point is that the three does not remember their past lives (or, Altaïr’s theory, their alternate life) but their personality are quite similar to what Desmond is used to.

To hammer in the Wizard of Oz setting, the courage that Ratonhnhaké:ton is meant to receive is finally understanding the difference between being courageous and being reckless. Ezio’s ‘heart’ is the character development he would have as he become more and more like Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton’s older brother. Altaïr’s ‘brain’ is the recognition for his works. Desmond is modeled as both Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz as he meets them and grants them their wish. Toto the dog is gonna be an android corgi dog named Des.

Desmond’s parents are actually Glinda (Minerva) and the Wicked Witch of the West (Juno). Minerva believes that letting Desmond do what he wants will make him understand his place in their world. Juno helps in the background while trying to nudge Desmond into understanding his place as a Lunar (and maybe she’s planning a coup to become the most powerful Lunar, who knows? That’s like plot D in this one)

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